System Requirements
by Whatsername9890
Summary: Some are free to love without regrets. But what about the rest? Follow Draco and Harry in their strange and twisted tale of angst, denial, love, pain, and fluffy bunnies. All the good stuff. DracoHarry and a little RonHermione. Discontinued.
1. Denial

A fanfiction by the one and only Whatsername9890

Yay...a Harry Potty fic by me. I hope you all enjoy it and reviews make me feel fuzzy inside. I even enjoy getting flames so BRING IT ON!

This chapter is dedicated to Norman, My fish, for being with me for all these years. He has been my fish through thick and thin. I owe so much to him, and let us take this time to thank him...

Warning: Mild slash, some mild language, and severe denial. Nothing too bad in this chapter. It is the first, after all, isn't it? Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling...yep...

Also, every chapter is going to center on the other person. I'll explain. The first chapter is about Draco. The next will be about Harry. The third will be about Draco...so on and so fourth...

Some are free to love without regrets. But what about the rest? Follow Draco Malfoy in his strange and twisted tale of angst, denial, love, pain, and fluffy bunnies...all the good stuff. Draco/Harry slash.

System Requirements

Chapter 1: Me Myself and Harry

Draco Malfoy had always been the one to cause unrest. He had always kindled a deep loathing for the one and only Harry Potter. And he had never sunk to such weak and undesirable emotions as love, or true happiness.

"Hey, Draco...Draco..." Crabbe grunted, shaking his friend's arm. Malfoy did not wake at first, wanting to continue his nap. After what seemed like hours of shaking, Malfoy sat up, sputtering curses at no one in particular. He looked around; unaware of where he had fallen asleep. He couldn't exactly remember anything; accept the disgusting face of Pansy Parkinson. He happened to be in the Slytherin common room, sitting Indian-style on the floor, with a quite large Crabbe squatting next to him. He looked around, confused, no idea what time it was or when he had fallen asleep or what had taken place.

"What happened?" Was all the blonde could think of to say. When he had started to speak, a huge headache pounded behind his eyes and he felt as if he might be sick. His vision blurred and Draco fought to remain in his sitting position.

Crabbe flushed, apparently embarrassed, and started hesitantly, "W-well..."

"Get on with it, you stupid oaf. What the hell happened!"

"Okay, last night Slytherin won the first Quidditch game of the season, and there was a big party in the common room. Some fourth year had managed to get some wine somehow and everyone was...er...drunk...That'll explain yer hangover...anyway, well, you're quite strange when you're drunk. Uhrm, you was...was..." He seemed unable to continue, as if when Draco knew the secret he would put him under some horrible jinx.

"You'd better bloody well tell me the rest," Malfoy warned, though he dreaded what was about to be told. What horrible thing had he done with Pansy Parkinson while drunk? Unable to wait any longer, he kicked Crabbe in the shin.

"Agh...owww...er, you was...well, you was...dancing on the table, and...erm... take...taking off...y-your robes...then you was snogging Pansy Parkinson...then, I passed out; don't know anything else..."

By the end of this story Malfoy felt a mixture of anger, embarrassment, loathing, and disgust. "Bloody hell," He gasped, attempting to stand up but as he moved his legs, he got dizzy and felt as if someone was smashing a hammer against his head. "W-what's the time?" He asked, pushing against Crabbe in order to stand up.

Crabbe, regaining his balance and standing up too, checked his watch. "Seven o'clock in the morning."

At that moment, a gang of fifth year girls descended the dormitory stairs, giggling as they past Draco. One of them made a kissing-face, a few winked in his direction, and another, Sylvia Aspen, said, "Draco, that was wicked hot last night...hey, join us for breakfast!"

He merely snarled at them and they hopped away disheartened. But somehow still giggling madly.

As Malfoy and Crabbe entered the entrance hall on their way down to breakfast, they passed by Harry Potter. The Gryffindor seemed surprised when his nemesis didn't say anything harsh, or even sneer at him. Draco was, in fact, too hung over to notice him. Harry continued up the stairs, puzzled, and the two Slytherins entered the Great Hall. As they walked down the Slytherin table everyone seemed to stare at Draco, pointing and giggling. He pasted on his unfeeling face, staring straight ahead, as if nothing was happening.

But inside was a different story. He felt, again, that confused lump of emotion. And he also felt as though he might throw up. "Crabbe, I'm going to the bathroom," he said hastily and ran back along the tables, not focusing on anything besides the great large doors ahead of him. He sprinted through the halls, bumping into a few people as he passed, but not noticing who they were. Malfoy reached the boys' bathroom and ran to a toilet, immediately throwing up last night's dinner. Unable to stand up, but feeling a little better, the Slytherin sat down on the floor. He picked at his fingernail, trying to remember the very simple potion that would cure a hangover, which his father had taught him.

Immersed in his own thoughts, Draco had not heard the door open. "Hey Malfoy, what are you doing in here?" None other than Harry Potter was standing behind him, emerald eyes wide open in surprise and ragged dark hair astray, like usual.

He turned around, sneering to hide his own surprise. "Potter," he spat, "Following me around, like usual? Trust me, I'm not whipping up some bogus plan to unleash the dark lord or anything, just sitting on the floor..."

Harry seemed to look away, face getting red. "I-I'm not following you...this is the boy's bathroom and all..." He shifted on his feet and seemed to suddenly find the stall to his left very interesting.

No evil glare? No snipey comeback? Not even an accusation? Malfoy, amused but not really aware of why his enemy was acting strangely, finally stood up. He grabbed onto the open stall door to steady himself and looked straight into the Gryffindor's eyes. "What's wrong with you, Potter?" He sneered. "You don't have a crush on me, do you?" He added jokingly, but was somewhat irritated at even the thought of it. "Disgusting..."

Harry was not amused by the comment. His eyes widened and he seemed to be in a trance, as though he couldn't move his eyes away even if he tried. "I..." He hesitated for a moment, but quickly regained his composure. "Come off it, Malfoy. I would kill myself if I ever got a bloody crush on you!"

Draco watched Harry stomp out of the bathroom, wondering why those last words felt like a blade through his chest. Then suddenly, he collapsed on the floor, clamping his hands against his face, and was sobbing for the first time in three years. The Slytherin couldn't understand what was happening, just that his tears would not stop flowing, and he felt unbelievably depressed.

After at least ten minutes, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, hating himself for being so weak. What was happening? Malfoy looked down at his hands. They were ghostly white and trembling. He assumed that he was ill, and trudged through the halls to the hospital wing. Never before had he felt such conflicting emotions.

Me Myself and Harry / END

Hey! Whatsername9890 here! Did you like it? Did you think Malfoy's conflicting emotions were stupid? I don't know. I didn't really develop a plot before I started writing it. I just kinda went along... Hey, if you have any story ideas I would absolutely LOVE to hear them! Please review and the next chapter will be up soon. (And it will hopefully be longer!)


	2. Harry Potter

Another addition to System Requirements. Enjoy!

I am dedicating this chapter to Billie Joe Armstrong of Green Day for being my god, and introducing me to a whole new life, even though I have never met you. (Really! Its True!)

All the same warnings...mostly just people thinking of slash. No touching in this chapter. Accept maybe by Ron and Hermione. Have fun and please review.

Chapter 2: The Malfoy Job

It wasn't as if Harry Potter was an amateur when it came to matters of the heart. He knew everything...Or at least he thought he did. What was the truth was that he had no idea what to do with his new feelings for Draco Malfoy. The only thing he knew for a matter of fact was that he would never tell anyone. No one would ever find out his secret.

But he couldn't just watch Malfoy from afar. The Slytherin was in his head every moment, and his heart lept every time their eyes met. He was driving himself mad. He longed for contact; to feel the other's soft, perfect skin beneath his fingertips.

Harry lay face down on his bed. He felt someone prod his shoulder. He looked up through a hazy mist to see none other than Draco Malfoy smiling down at him. He clamped his arms around Malfoy's arm, savoring the tingling feeling that spread through his body. Suddenly the blonde frowned, and started to shake Harry from his grip.

"...Harry...Harry, you git...get off my bloody arm. Look, you've drooled all over my robes..." Harry looked up hastily. It wasn't Draco, it was Ron. He looked around. He wasn't in the dormitory, he was in transfiguration class. He must've fallen asleep during another one of Professor McGonnagal's lectures.

"Oh...sorry, Ron." Harry let go and wiped his face on his sleeve.

"...and it had better be done by Friday. No excuses. Class dismissed." McGonnagal finished.

An hour later, Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking aimlessly across the grounds. It was a beautiful summer day and they had a double free period for some strange reason. "I have to go to the bathroom," Ron announced suddenly.

"Thank you for letting us know," Hermione answered, not really paying attention. She was studying for their potions test next hour as they were walking. "You know, you two should really be studying...and the second ingredient for the truth serum is eye of newt..."

Ron, ignoring her studying comment, bayed farewell and ran off in the direction of the boys' bathrooms. Hermione immediately put away her book and stopped dead in front of Harry. "Harry, I need to ask you something."

Harry, immediately thinking he knew what it was, said, "Yes. Hermione, I know he likes you too. You've got to stop putting it off, nothing bad will come of asking-"

She blushed furiously. "It's not about that, Harry. It's not about me. It's about you." She started walking again, Harry jogging to keep up. "I noticed you've been acting so strange lately...and I was wondering what was going on."

If Harry had taken the truth serum, he would have said something like, "I've been wanting to snog Draco Malfoy!" But instead he said casually, "Nothing really."

"Okay, Harry, since you aren't telling me willingly I have to announce my suspicions." Hermione stopped, and looked up at Harry. She didn't seem disgusted. If anything, she seemed intrigued. "You're in love with Draco Malfoy."

"My god Hermione, why would you think something like that!" Harry shouted, panicking. She gave him a death glare and he sighed, changing his answer to, "Hermione, how the hell did you figure that out?"

She looked pleased with herself. "Well, muttering his name in your sleep, for one thing. You always seem to be dozing off in class. One sign of not sleeping at night. That usually means you're worried. And being in love with your male nemesis is something to be worried about. Also how you stare at him longingly in the halls and-"

"Enough!" The boy-who-lived commanded. "Alright, I'm madly in love with Malfoy! I can't stop thinking about him and whenever I see him I want to snog his brains out! Happy!"

"I'm sorry, Harry. I…I shouldn't have taken it so lightly. Ummm…is there anything I can do to help?"

"Yeah, give him a love potion," Harry said half-joking.

"Harry..."

"I'm just joking."

"I knew that."

"Not a word of this to Ron, alright?"

Suddenly there was a sound of crunching grass behind them. "Not a word of what to me?" Ron said slyly, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

"Nothing, Ron," Harry said quickly.

Harry's heart almost stopped when she started to speak, but then as her excuse unfolded, he was extremely thankful for Hermione's quick wit. "Ron, Harry asked me if he could copy my herbology paper and I said he could, but that I wouldn't let you copy also, because you need more practice at herbology, and-"

Ron looked extremely relieved. "Right, Hermione, I get it."

That night, Ron had gone to sleep early and Harry and Hermione were "studying for potions" in the library. Harry had become increasingly fed up with not being able to confide in anyone about his obsession, so a large portion of him was exceptionally pleased that Hermione had accidentally found out.

"…but Harry, it's not impossible for him to like you back, I mean he's always been a little obsessed with you, maybe its some twisted sort of hate-turned-to-love thing." Harry found it hard to believe that she was having a deep conversation with him, and at the same time scribbling down her essay. She was already halfway done by the time Harry got to putting the title on his parchment, which turned out to say "Malfoy's Roots" instead of "Comblin Roots". He ripped up the paper and tossed it behind him.

"That's impossible. I mean, what are the chances that he's queer, let alone that he likes me? He's probably really popular with the girls."

"Harry, you're popular with the girls, too. Really, I don't think it's at all impractical. More like probable. I think you could figure it out if you asked him the right questions." Even the world of dating seemed to her like a test or experiment that she could pass without a second thought.

Harry swelled with excitement. Probable? The fact that a relationship had even the chance of developing seemed like finding a million galleons to Harry. Was Hermione right? He tried to believe that she was, but his negative side started to show through. _What if she's wrong and you blow it all by asking him some stupid question? What if he finds out and doesn't feel the same way? What if he still hates you? What if-_ Harry slammed his head down on the table. His restless mind drifted away, and he was floating in mist…

"Oh my- Harry, are you O.K.?" Hermione turned his Harry's head over, concerned that something terrible had happened. His eyes were closed and she thought she heard a snore. The Gryffindor girl smiled to herself. She continued her paper for about half an hour; then woke Harry and they went to bed.

The Malfoy Job / END

That SUCKED! I know, I know…but please don't be discouraged! The next chapter will be about our loveable Malfoy, and maybe by then I'll have thought up a plot…hey, why don't you guys review? I would love it if you would give me suggestions on where to go with the story. I think I should probably just stick to Malfoy's part of the story from now on, with small Harry's POV bits. Very small. Really tiny. Anyway, tell me what yall think on these topics, please.

To my reviewers, I love you to ity bity bits…and sorry if I spell your names wrong.

All-Knowing Alien: Thank you so much! And as for the real story, it remains a mystery…a mystery that not even I have uncovered the true meaning of…

Jessy: Yep, Draco is very blind. And as that was my aim, he will stay that way for quite a while. Yes, I am continuing…slowly…as school makes up most of my time…

Rae: I'm so glad you think so! And I sure am going to continue…I want to be one of those 20 chapter ones with a million gazillion reviews! Yaaay…

California Smells Funny: Yeah, in all those fics where there's no conflicting emotion, he seems so OOC that it kinda scares me…

MidnightsRose: I love it when people say that. It makes me feel fuzzy.

Dust to ashes: Yeah, thanks, but I don't think that 'update soon' thing is gonna happen…sorry…gomen na sai!


	3. Someone To Fall Back On

The next installment of...SYSTEM REQUIREMENTS!

Thank you for reading this far...

I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN FOREVER! I've been really busy…sorry…

Dedicated to RENT…we're not gonna pay…we're not gonna pay…

Chapter 3: Someone to Fall Back On

Draco left the hospital wing the following day, and made it to his potions class on time. Too damn bad that his class was with Gryffindor, so he would have to take Potter's pathetic whining for two consecutive hours. When Malfoy arrived, there was one seat left; next to Hermione Granger and two seats away from Harry Potter. Granger seemed strangely happy as Draco took his seat, glaring at no one in particular all the while.

Snape merely raised his eyebrows at his favorite student and greeted the class with his usual iciness. He began a rather long and dull lecture about some dangerous ingredient, Malfoy didn't know which one; he wasn't really listening. His mind drifted from topic to topic, and just as he was drifting off into sleep, Snape's shrill voice startled him, and he jumped in his seat. Hermione raised her eyebrows at him and shook her head.

"Potter, I don't find this the proper time to be taking a nap. Perhaps you would like to stay after class and sleep then?" Asked Snape, mocking Harry with his words. Malfoy looked across at Potter, who had an I-really-don't-care-what-you're-saying look on his face. The Slytherin's heart pounded in his chest. He stared, unblinking, at the Gryffindor's profile. His hair was windswept and messy, but not an ugly messy, more like an attractive untidiness. His emerald eyes sparkled behind the thick frames of his glasses, and his pink lips were slightly parted.

A tingling feeling spread through his body and he hit his knees on his desk, making a loud banging sound. Draco silently cursed, his face flushing red as every person turned to look at him. The teen looked back at Harry, who was staring at him. Draco felt the other's eyes boring into him and he turned away from everyone, hiding his embarrassment. What was wrong with him? How could he ever dare to think of 'attractive' and 'Harry Potter' in the same sentence? Harry Potter was the ugliest, and the worst person he had ever known, and he desperately wanted to keep it that way. Sweeping up his books and things in one arm, Malfoy stomped out of the room, tuning out any voices that may have came from it.

'I can't believe that happened! What the hell's wrong with me!' Draco thought as he swept through the halls, shoving aside any first-year that crossed his path. He had no idea where he was going, or where he might end up, and frankly he didn't care. Anywhere that Harry Potter wasn't. Yet he couldn't get the image out of his mind. He didn't know who to go to, who to confess his problem to. He didn't have anyone that he could talk to freely, someone he could burst out his emotions. He was basically alone in the world. He had no one to guide him, no one to care for him more than anyone else. He yearned to have someone that was devoted to him, someone to always be able to fall back on, no matter what. But he didn't deserve that. Somewhere deep down he knew he didn't deserve for someone to love him.

As mentioned above, he had no clue where he was headed, and before he was done wallowing in his own sorrow, he smashed head on into a painting. Draco stumbled back and fell on his bum, looking up to see that stupid, ugly fat lady that guarded the Gryffindor common rooms.

"Dear heavens, a Slytherin! I say, a Slytherin is trying to manipulate me into giving out the password!" She squealed, though none of the other paintings paid her any mind, and the corridor was deserted of any Hogwarts students or staff. Malfoy turned around and sprinted all the way back to the Slytherin common room, horrified that that was where he had ended up.

Over the weekend, Draco was not his usual self. He didn't once go outside and play in the new fallen snow. He never threw ice balls at an unlucky passerby. He never dumped a load of the cold white stuff into Pansy Parkinson's bed, as he usually liked to do. Crabbe and Goyle, sensing that he was in a terrible mood, avoided him at all costs.

As he sat in the dormitory room next to the windowsill, the only one to disturb him was stupid Pansy Parkinson, the one that seemed so desperately in love with him. And she seemed to have fooled herself into thinking that Malfoy liked her back. "Dear Draco, why are you cooped up in this dormitory all by yourself?" She asked, standing behind him, and started to caress his silky blonde hair.

He closed his eyes, and sighed. He imagined that the one behind him was not Pansy. He imagined that same gentle hand, accept larger, and the one behind him wearing glasses. There was an unusual scar on his forehead...

No. He stood up abruptly, turning around and glaring at her. "Why the hell are you in the boys' dormitories, wench!"

She shied back, looking hurt, but then resumed in her delusions. "Draco, it's alright, I'm here to help you...what's wrong?" Pansy seemed to think that he actually believed this bullshit. They both knew she was only there for one reason...

The Slytherin girl rushed up and put her arms around him. He reacted violently, pushing her against the wall. Pansy took this gesture the absolute wrong way. "Okay, Draco, take me...I'm ready now..." She closed her eyes, preparing for...

"You...sicken me..." Malfoy backed away in disgust. But then, suddenly, Pansy Parkinson was gone, and there was Harry Potter against the wall, waiting for him, his cheeks slightly flushed and his eyes shinning. "Agh! STOP IT!" He shouted, turning around and covering his face. "Leave! Get out! GET OUT!"

"You're pathetic, Draco Malfoy," She hissed, turning on her heel and stomping out of the room. Draco crumpled to the ground, burying his head in the musty carpet. Everything hit him in a burst of emotion and he cried for the second time that week, although this time he was outright wailing, and if you were out in the hall you could have heard him. He choked on air, trying to gulp it in, and yet he couldn't stop. The carpet was wet with his tears before he had finished, curled in a ball and trembling. He sniffed, grabbing a pillow and holding it tight against him, though it provided little comfort.

He hated himself.

Harry stretched, arching his back and throwing his arms in the air. It was Sunday morning. He had finished all of his homework the night before and he was ready for a day full of relaxation.

Hermione had different plans. With Ron visiting Mrs. Wesley, who was sick, Hermione wanted to take advantage of the time and do a little "research".

"But Hermione," Harry whined, "I'm done with all my homework!"

"Not that kind of research, you dolt! We're finding out today whether Malfoy likes you or not, though I already have my own suspicions."

The pair was walking swiftly down the hall after having just finished breakfast. They walked out onto the open grounds, Hermione leading and Harry following. After what seemed like ages of walking, The Gryffindor girl abruptly sat down in the grass, as they were passing an oak tree. Harry, taking a moment to realize that she stopped, backed up and popped a squat next to her.

Hermione was unable to leave this problem alone. She had a dilemma in front of her, one that she was sure that she could solve, and she was incapable of setting it aside. Hermione narrowed her eyes in concentration, not speaking a word.

Harry did the same, pretending to think...He couldn't concentrate on any sort of plan. Before long, Harry was lying in the cool, damp grass, and his lovely daydream started with Malfoy pressing Harry against a wall, and then his lips...

"I've got it!" Hermione shouted, her body jolting alive, and she stood up, almost prancing with excitement. "It's perfect!"

This was not how Harry wanted his daydream to end, but he reluctantly stood up next to her and expected her to explain the plan to him. Instead, she simply turned on her heel and power-walked up to the castle, without looking over her shoulder once to see if Harry was coming. Harry jogged after her, puzzled, but not apprehensive.

When they got to the castle, Hermione finally turned around. "Harry, stop following me!" She said.

Harry was so confused he couldn't think of anything to say. "Huh?" He muttered dumbly.

She sighed, giggling to herself. "Oh, well, you can't come with me. I know you're going through Malfoy withdrawal, but this is strictly between me and him. So go away and don't go anywhere near the Library until I come with you. I would suggest going to play Quittich with Fred and George...?" Hermione pointed toward the Quittich field.

"Fine..." Harry sighed, "But first tell me what you're going to say."

"No way! I'll tell you how everything goes after I'm done. And you're gonna owe me after this!" Hermione disappeared into the castle without another word.

Harry grumbled and obediently went to go play Quittich with Fred and George, who were mysteriously already at the Quittich field, just as Hermione had said.

Hermione grinned to herself, rather pleased as she swiftly walked toward the library. She was beginning to find this romance stuff pretty interesting, and with her new intrigue, she had surprised herself.

Malfoy was there, as she had thought, sitting at a table in the back. His arms were folded under his head, and he seemed asleep. Hermione silently tip-toed over to the bookshelves, smiling, and grabbed an armful of random books. She cautiously approached the snoozing Slytherin, and then dropped the books on the table in front of him with a heavy "thunk!"

"Agh, holy shit!" He sat up and started as he saw Hermione there in front of him. "What the fuck are you doing here, Granger?"

She invited herself to sit down, and took out a parchment, quill, and ink. Then she smiled smugly. Hermione could have (and did) thought up a gazillion and one ways to find out if Malfoy felt any attraction to Harry, but she found this way would have the same result, and would take half the time. It seemed simple enough from the outside, but what no one knew was that, while shuffling about the library, Miss Granger had invoked a truth spell upon the unsuspecting victim.

"So," she began, "Are you attracted to Harry Potter?"

Harry trudged up to the Quittich field, in no mood to play Quittich. He only saw one Weasley on the field, darting through the hoops. He wondered where the other was, but decided to get changed in the locker room first.

As he entered, Harry sighed, welcoming the roof over his head. He put his hand on the door handle and...

"Fred..."

Harry jolted back, staring at the closed wooden door, appalled. He debated whether or not to enter, leaning on the choice that had NOTHING to do with entering the room. And then with a sick, twisted fascination of wanting to know who it was, Harry opened the door with a burst of confidence that disappeared as soon as he opened his eyes.

There, on the floor, was Fred. His back was turned and he was frozen in place. A few feet away was a boy that Harry didn't recognize, looking as if he had just bounced back, away from Fred. He stared in complete fear at Harry.

Harry stared in complete shock. Not only was Fred Weasley shaking with nervousness (which he never did), but he was shaking with nervousness, and with another man. Not only was Fred shaking with nervousness and with another man, but he was shaking with nervousness and with another man on the disgusting gym locker floor. They could have controlled themselves until they got up to the castle.

Fred spun around and his eyes widened. He looked helpless, and opened and closed his mouth a few times, finally deciding it would be best to leave it closed. The other boy, a year older than Harry, sat and stared as if he had just seen a ghost.

And then as the boy looked over to Fred, complete and utter loyalty, devotion, and maybe love, crossed his face. Harry felt a little jealously rise in him. How had Fred found this forbidden love and why couldn't Harry find it?

"You git," Harry muttered, and Fred looked hurt and embarrassed. "How could you have gotten it before I have?" the boy who lived asked, smiling.

Fred was taken aback, and gave a nervous little laugh. Harry, still feeling a little strange, decided to leave. "Ehrm, well, I'm leaving now...see you around..." And he turned around, rushing into the cold air.

"Harry, wait," Fred called. Harry looked over his shoulder. "Not a word to George, okay? He'll have my head..." Harry nodded. "Thanks."

Harry shuddered on his way up to the castle, attempting to not think of what he had just seen. He sighed, looking up at the sky, and wondered if that would someday happen to him and Draco. Being so in love, so in need of one person. A wave of depression swept over him. "So this is what it's like to be lovesick, I guess..." the Gryffindor muttered to himself.

&&&&

"Say what?" Malfoy asked, stunned.

Hermione sighed. "I said, are you or are you not attracted to Harry Potter?"

Malfoy twitched, a sign that the truth spell was going into affect. "I hate Harry Potter. B-but...also...I'm also attracted to him. Though I can't admit it to myself, I'm painfully in love with him." It seemed as if someone else were speaking. Malfoy bore a kind of far away look, and his left hand twitched again.

Hermione smiled. Despite her loathing the Slytherin, even Hermione found this very sweet. "Tell me more," she said kindly.

"W-well...he's just so...so...perfect, I guess. Every time I look at him. His hair, it's really messy. I've never seen it combed before. But he's so full of himself, and he's never nice to me, but I'm never nice to him. I know he could never feel the same way about me." He smiled, in spite of himself, and looked Hermione directly in the eyes. "I don't know whether to kill him, or kiss him."

Awww! It was so sweet and romantic. She couldn't believe what he was saying! Underneath all the slime, Malfoy was really a very sweet and sensitive boy. But now she sounded like a drunken school counselor, so she just continued with the questions.

"Would you ever consider telling Harry how you feel?"

"No."

"Alright, so what would you do if he told you that he loved you?"

"He would never fucking do that,"

Someone to Fall Back On / END

Did you like it? REVIEW!

I tried to make it longer, did it work? CYA! REVIEWS ARE LOVED!


	4. Fantasies Come True

I'm SO SORRY! I'm a slow updater…hopefully that will change after school lets out… so to those of you that like my story, I'm sorry. But the real world seems to want way too much from me.

And while i'm at it, if anyone has a good site for fanfiction challenges i would GREATLY appreciate it if you would give it to me in a review or email because i cant find any good ones and I really enjoy them. Thanks.

Yes the title of the chapter is from Avenue Q. No you are not having Deja Vu. Deal with it.

Chapter 4: Fantasies Come True

Malfoy awoke with a sharp pain in his neck and a dull, throbbing headache. He groaned and sat up, taking in his surroundings, which happened to be the library, he mused. Library? Mused? Draco stood up quickly, scattering papers across the table.

The library? He didn't remember falling asleep in the library. He didn't really remember much about yesterday at all. He looked over to see a student, the librarian's aid, glaring at him as if he were drinking alcohol or getting high on school grounds. Draco sighed, gathered his materials, and made his way out of the silent and cold library.

It was dark in the halls. The only light was the full moon streaming in through the windows and casting eerie shadows across the walls. It was 10 o'clock p.m., he noticed, from a clock on the wall that he passed. Draco had no idea what had happened, or how long he had been sleeping. All he knew was that he wasn't tired, and had no intention of going to bed.

His thoughts drifted from subject to subject as he walked through the hallways to the Great Hall. Malfoy opened the great, steady doors and wondered why no one was stopping him, no teacher or magic spell.

Draco welcomed the rush of cold air that blew his soft blonde hair about his face. The grounds were empty, as far as he could tell. Which was not very far seeing as that it was nighttime.

"Lumos," Draco told his wand. It lit up and he could see a figure off in the distance, sitting under a tree. Lucky Draco had never heard the phrase, 'curiosity killed the cat' because if he had, maybe he wouldn't have wandered over to the tree; but he did. As he approached slowly, he became aware that the figure was a student, Malfoy could see his robes. It was a Gryffindor. It was...no, it couldn't be... "Harry Potter," The Slytherin said, astonished that this was the student he had come across.

Harry was sitting with his back propped against the huge tree, a spell book on his lap, and a tired look on his face. Harry looked up at Draco, and seemed equally astonished. "M-Malfoy," he sputtered, looking uncomfortable. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you that question," Draco answered. He sighed, and sat down next to Harry, leaning his back against the tree, and welcoming the cold ground. His body shivered, being so close. The Slytherin closed his eyes. After what seemed like hours of silence, he opened one eye to look at Harry. Were his eyes playing tricks on him, or was that a tint of red on the boy's cheeks?

Harry was nervous? Embarrassed? No, it couldn't be. It wasn't possible that Harry loved him back. Who would, anyway? Wait, Love? Who ever said anything about love? Malfoy shook his head, as if to clear the thoughts out and sighed.

Harry turned his head quickly at the noise and their eyes met. The Slytherin's breath caught in his throat. He watched the other boy lick his lips nervously and it took all of his strength to stop himself from reaching out, touching the soft skin with his hand.

Malfoy's stomach did flip-flops. He was so close to Harry, if he leaned just a little their lips would meet. Before he knew what he was doing, he leaned in, closing his eyes. Their lips were about to meet...

The Gryffindor's eyes widened and before he could realize, his hand came out and struck Malfoy across the face. He immediately launched himself backwards, terrified of what he had done. So close, he had been so close to finally getting what he wanted. A part of him knew it was wrong. That part had slapped Draco.

Malfoy did not look up. His head was still leaned to the side, cheek burning painfully. What had he almost done? He'd almost kissed Harry. It was all over now. The Gryffindor must have been disgusted by him. How could he have acted so rashly? "Shit," he sighed, unaware he had voiced it out loud.

"Shit," Harry repeated, looking at Draco. He could not help smiling a little. He wondered if Draco felt at least some attraction to him. The Slytherin looked up at Harry, finally, and a shy smile tugged at his lips as well.

"I'm sorry, I-" Draco began.

"Its fine," Harry interrupted.

"I didn't mean-"

"Forget it."

"Right."

They sat in awkward silence for a long time. They both could not forget it. Harry looked down at his love's hand and longed to grasp it with his own. He, again, restrained himself as he had learned to do so many times before. He was used to denying his feelings, something one must learn to do when one falls in love with a person they cannot have.

Harry sighed, and Malfoy could feel the angst dripping off of him. It sent a shiver down his spine. Both boys looked up at the same time, locking eyes. They stared at each other for quite some time before they realized it was weird and both turned away.

Malfoy plucked out some grass absentmindedly. His face was getting hot and it was hard to breath. If he didn't leave, he would probably end up doing something stupid. He stood up suddenly, facing Harry. "I'm leaving. 'Night."

"Okay, see you later. I'm going to stay out here for a while." Harry answered. Draco turned around and headed towards the castle, but not without looking back once. He turned his body around but kept walking, so he was backwards. He smiled, then seemed to regret the decision, and turned back to face the castle, nearly missing a tree.

Harry giggled (yes giggled) and shuddered with delight. Maybe there was a chance after all.

The next few weeks were painful for Harry. He was in agony mostly for three reasons. The first reason being that he had a difficult potions final coming up. The second and third reasons tied in together. Hermione had informed Harry on what Malfoy said during their little truthful discussion, and it was amazingly and agonizingly awkward whenever he saw Malfoy.

For example, one afternoon he was walking with Hermione and Ron to herbology when they suddenly passed the Slytherin in the halls. Harry stared, googley eyed, at Malfoy, who was drinking from a cup of pumpkin juice, and the Gryffindor ended up walking straight into a large laundry tub. Hermione was embarrassed for him, Ron laughed hysterically, and Malfoy spit his pumpkin juice all over his robes. The Slytherin then excused himself quickly, and could not stop a fit of giggles once he reached the bathroom.

Malfoy was having worries similar to Harry. He couldn't bare the tension between them. It was more than he could take. He had to talk to Harry and confront him about his feelings. That's what he had to do, but it was so much more complicated than it sounded.

Draco was sitting in his common room, folded comfortably into a big armchair. He scooted over to the edge, noticing that both his thin frame and Harry's could probably fit. They'd be so close. So close.

He sighed, and could almost picture the arms across his shoulders, hips touching, heads close, breath across his neck, making his hairs stand up and his spine tingle.

"Hey, don't get too close!" A young Slytherin girl shouted, pushing a boy away from her. This comment made Draco jump, and pull out of his fantasy. His face felt hot and his breath was short, as it had been under the tree. Just as he stood up, he knew where he was going.

Barely aware, he got his flying broom from the side of his Slytherin bed, and opened his window. Malfoy stood on the window ledge as icy rain hit his face and melted, dripping down his face like newly shed tears. It was refreshing to him, but the darkness wasn't.

Finally, he swallowed all fear, and jumped into blackness, expertly lowering his broom and taking flight in a matter of seconds. He wiped water from his face with the back of his sleeve and by that time he was already where he wanted to be.

Draco Malfoy slowed his broom and hovered in the air just outside of a window. He wiped the window off with his sleeve and looked in to make sure no one was awake, and then slowly eased the window open, glad it was unlocked. As silent as he could be, Draco propped his broom against the wall. He took off his soaking wet robe and hung it up against the broom. The clothes underneath his robe were damp, also, but that could not be helped.

The boy padded over to the bedside of Harry Potter, and was amazed by the sight of his love sleeping contently, blankets tangled up in his legs and a pillow firmly in his grip, held against his chest. He pulled up a nearby chair and watched Harry sleep for about a quarter of an hour, during which he debated whether or not to touch the other boy. He couldn't resist himself. His quivering and shaking hand met Harry's brow. He pushed a stray strand of hair away from the Gryffindor's eyes, and let a finger trail down his face to the curve of his jawbone.

Harry moved, repositioning the pillow while he was still sleeping. He moaned, leaning into the touch. Malfoy jumped back and almost fell out of his chair. Soon, though, he regained his composure. The Slytherin felt a sudden wave of fatigue, and he dared himself to touch the other's hand. There was no reaction. He clasped the hand with both of his own and leaned down, resting his head on the three hands.

The feel of his love's hand against his face was sensational. He could have been there for forever, just sleeping next to Harry. It seemed as though his troubles evaporated with every breath Harry took, every time his chest moved up and down. The rain pitter-pattering against the window was calming, enticing him to fall asleep.

"Draco..." Harry whispered, and Malfoy's head shot up as he drew away from the bed. He looked into Harry's eyes, which were still closed. Harry had said Draco's name in his sleep? Could he feel Draco's presence, in the back of his mind?

He had no more time to contemplate that line of thought, because Harry was actually waking up. He sat up and pushed the pillow away, running a hand through his hair. The Gryffindor stared at the Slytherin for a moment before it registered that Malfoy was in his room. He stood up and said, "What the hell are you doing in my fucking dormitory?"

Draco's heart was beating a million times a minute. It was all over. Harry would hate him, think he was a creepy stalker, and never want to see him again. "Well?" Harry said, sounding less confident and more nervous.

"I, well, I, um..." Draco searched his mind for something, something to say or latch onto. He found nothing. Then, "I need to talk to you."

"Well, it's a fucking bad time, but there's actually something I need to talk to you about too." Harry looked back at the other beds. No one was awake, but they would be if the conversation was continued much longer. "We need somewhere to talk..." Harry thought a moment, then took Malfoy by the hand (which he did _not_ mind) and led him down the hall to the bathroom. It was actually quite large. Harry closed the door gently and locked it. "Look, we won't be disturbed while we're in here together."

Malfoy was a teenager, so of course he took that comment the wrong way. He coughed, and raised one eyebrow (which is an incredibly awesome thing to do). Harry, realizing what he had implied, turned an interesting shade of red and turned away from the other boy for a moment. "You know what I mean," he reasoned.

"Um...yeah..." Was all Draco could say. He was so overcome by how cute Harry was when he was flustered that his mind was having trouble breaking down a single coherent thought.

"What is it you want to talk to me about?" Harry asked, leaning against the sink. Draco, on the opposite side of the bathroom, sat down on the cold tile, his back to the door.

"Can you go first?" Malfoy answered. He looked up hopefully at Harry.

TO BE CONTINUED...next chapter...

plz review and tell me what you think! no need to be shy!


	5. Calm on the Outside

I would like to take some time to thank my reviewers. I don't have room or time to thank you personally, but thank you so much for your support, even though some of you, such as ItsaMiracle, were kind of violent. By the way, I think I flinched when I read ItsaMiracle's review…

Aaaand, The beginning of this chapter will probably suck, because I typed the whole kissing scene up and it was wicked hot, but my computer crashed and IT DIDN'T SAVE! AAAHHHHH! I'm so pissed. Anyhoo I don't think I can recreate the scene's perfect-ness (?) so I apologize in advance. Sorry if it's awkward, this is the first real make-out scene I've written. Ever.

This chapter is pretty intense. I have added another pairing to the story, if you don't mind. Please tell me what you think of it. And please let me know if you think the characters were too OOC.

Chapter 5: Calm on the Outside

Harry looked up at Malfoy, across the room leaning against the door. He seemed so calm, hands at his sides, staring at Harry expectantly. His blonde hair was disheveled and crazy from his flight to the boy's dormitory. The usually neat locks were sticking almost straight up.

Harry, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck. His breathing was heavy and unstable as he tried to breathe in and out. It seemed simple enough, but it wasn't. He drummed his fingers along the counter of the bathroom. He tried to think of something to say, besides "um" or "huh?" or "no, you go first," but nothing was coming to mind. "I really think you should go first," is what Harry ended up saying. Nice going, bimbo.

Malfoy, though he seemed calm on the outside, was scared shitless. He'd never had to do something so embarrassing and possibly disastrous before. He could just say that he liked Harry, or found him attractive, and if Harry didn't feel the same way, Draco would just go back to his life, no big deal. Harry wouldn't tell anyone. Accept Hermione and maybe Ron. And Ron would tell the whole school. The Slytherin sucked in his fear and stood up, using the door for support. He took a confident step toward Harry.

"Alright," Draco began. He couldn't force himself to say those three simple words, the ones that had been on the tip of his tongue for such a long time. The blonde would just have to take the bold approach and show his feelings instead of speaking them.

Draco put his hands on Harry's shoulders and leaned in, connecting their lips for a moment. He pulled back, not wanting to scare the boy away by shoving his tongue down his throat, no matter how tempting it was. Harry did not slap Draco, or glare at him, or look disgusted. A hint of red was creeping across the Gryffindor's cheeks.

Malfoy was about to say something about his feelings, or about how excellent the other boy tasted, when Harry suddenly reached his arms around the other boy's neck and pulled him into a more intense kiss. Their mouths collided needily, and Draco begged for entrance into Harry's mouth, who obliged. His tongue roamed the other boy's mouth and sucked on his bottom lip. Meanwhile, Harry's hands were tangled in soft blonde hair, which was even more messed up that it was originally. Malfoy pressed Harry against the wall, roaming his chest and back with his hands. Their mouths and tongues battled for dominance, although Harry finally retreated and allowed Draco to take over. They were both in need of air, but did not want to break apart. Harry broke the kiss, gasping for air, and they leaned their foreheads against each other, each staring into the other's eyes.

After an eternity, the two boys slid down the wall to sit on the floor, with Malfoy straddling Harry's hips. The blonde looked down at Harry's hands, and intertwined their fingers. He then kissed Harry lightly on the lips, and stared into eyes that he could lose himself in. "We should…um…lock the door," Harry said.

Malfoy busted up laughing, and got up to lock the door. He blew the other boy a kiss, and even if it was corny gesture, Harry's heart melted.

For the next week the two boys were still a bit uncomfortable around each other. They did not tell anyone about their affair, and no one suspected anything. Sixteen separate times, Harry had almost told Hermione what happened. He always remembered what Malfoy said to him one afternoon in a broom closet on the fifth floor: "If you want to keep meeting me, we can't ever tell anyone about this. We would be the laughing stock of the whole school."

On the afternoon of the eighth day of his relationship with Malfoy, Harry was in double Herbology with the Slytherin and Gryffindor classes. He doodled on his parchment as the Professor drawled on and on about some healing plant. He wondered if Draco was embarrassed of being with him. Were they even a couple? Did Draco think of him as just some boy? He had no idea. They never talked. They barely had time to meet each other as it was. When the boys did meet in a broom closet or deserted classroom, they were usually both so needy that all they did was-

"….snog each other's brains out."

Harry jumped and his quill fell on the floor, spilling ink all over. "What?" He whispered to Ron, as he leaned over his desk and picked up the quill. He had been in such a daze that he hadn't even heard what Ron was talking about, until the red head's words finished his thoughts.

"I was talking about how I saw Lavender and Parvati kissing next to the Quittich field yesterday. Harry, are you okay? You've been acting strange lately."

Harry wiped the ink off of the floor with his paper and sat back in his chair. "Yeah right Ron; it was probably just a lesbian fantasy of yours. And yes I'm fine."

"It was not a fantasy, I really saw them!" Ron exclaimed.

The professor cleared her throat. "Ron and Harry, would you like to explain what is so important that it must be discussed in the middle of my lecture?"

"No thanks. We're sorry." Ron mumbled and slid down in his seat. Harry giggled and poked Ron in the stomach.

"No thanks. We're sorry." He said quietly, imitating Ron's voice and glaring into space. Ron punched him in the arm. Harry muffled an "ouch" and hit Ron back, harder. The friends heard a soft "shhhh" noise, and looked over at Hermione, who was glaring at them.

"Shut the hell up," She said through gritted teeth, and pointed at her herbology book. "And pay attention!"

Harry looked up at the teacher, while Ron and Hermione argued, and in his view saw Malfoy looking back at him. The Slytherin smiled at him and with that look, Harry did not doubt Draco's intentions or feelings. It was the real thing. Harry smiled back. Then the other boy held up a small piece of paper and raised an eyebrow. Harry squinted to read it. It said, "Broom closet after class?" He laughed silently and agreed by nodding.

For the rest of class Draco kept looking back at Harry and smiling at him. Harry would smile back and Draco would turn around, only to do the same thing five minutes later. They tried to mouth a conversation, but it didn't work out so well. The two boys barely noticed the scene between Ron and Hermione that was making the whole class embarrassed.

"Shut the hell up," Hermione said through gritted teeth, and pointed at her herbology book. "And pay attention!" Harry and Ron's immature playing was getting on her nerves. Couldn't they stop touching each other for ten minutes?

Ron glared at her and said, "Why don't you mind your own business?"

Hermione flinched, hurt by the remark. Harry turned toward the teacher, not wanting to be part of this argument. "Mind my own business? I'm your friend too."

"I didn't mean it like that…" Ron said, feeling guilty. He knew that Hermione liked him, but he didn't know how he felt about her. He knew he liked her as a friend. She was kind and caring, and always listened. She was also very pretty. Hermione's temper was fiery, though, and she was bossy and sometimes strict. He didn't know if he could date her if she turned out to be a bossy and controlling girlfriend. Then their friendship would be screwed up.

"Well then how did you mean it?" She snapped back.

"I don't know, just shut up for a second," Ron growled. Bad move.

"Just shut up? What are you, a controlling asshole?"

Ron laughed, but didn't really find the situation humorous at all. "I'm the controlling one? Hermione you're more of a controlling asshole than I'll ever be!" Hermione and Ron did not notice that the whole class was watching the argument. Professor Sprout was speechless. It sounded like they were a married couple gone wrong. Accept they weren't even dating.

Hermione turned her whole body to face Ron in her chair. She leaned closer to glare at him. "I'm not controlling. You just don't like it that I push you to succeed, that's it."

The only two that did not notice the argument were Harry and Malfoy, who were busy making goo goo eyes at each other and mouthing a conversation. Which wasn't working too well. "What did you say?" Harry mouthed. "What? You're wearing a lay?" Draco mouthed back.

Ron was fuming. "You force me to do work all the time, if that's what you call 'pushing to succeed'."

Professor Sprout had had enough. She banged her wand on her desk, red sparks flying out of its end. "Ron and Hermione, stop! I…I don't even know what to say. Just leave my classroom immediately."

Hermione stood up and pushed in her chair, staring at Ron the whole time. Then she left the classroom and slammed the door shut as hard as she could. Ron stood up, watching her leave. "I'm sorry Professor Sprout; I don't know what's gotten into her."

"I do, Ron, now just get out. I would never have expected you two – well, at least Hermione – to disturb my class like that."

Ron left, slamming the door so hard that the plants on the ceiling shook soil onto the students' heads.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" Ron said, standing in front of Hermione. She was sitting against the wall.

"It wasn't just me. It was you too." Hermione pouted, folding her arms and resting her elbows on her knees.

"That's fair, I reckon," Ron agreed, bending down and sitting next to Hermione against the wall. It was strangely cold and he shivered.

"Ron," Hermione began, suddenly feeling awkward. "Can I tell you something?" She said.

"I guess we're done arguing?" Ron smiled at Hermione.

Hermione turned away, hiding a blush behind her hair. She felt so giddy that she could get up and…dance…"I guess we're done."

"Right then. What d'you want to tell me?"

Hermione took a deep breath and lifted her head up to face Ron. "I really like you, Ron. I think I love you."

Ron grinned in a dopey fashion. And he suddenly knew that the future didn't matter to him, if they would be friends or not, he just wanted to kiss her now. "I love you too," He laughed, and kissed her on the lips.

Ten minutes later, Professor Sprout opened the door to let Ron and Hermione in, when she was taken by surprise. The couple were making out on the floor of the hallway. She grimaced. "God, why must teenagers be such horn dogs these days?" She asked herself and just walked back into the classroom, shuddering.

TO BE CONTINUED….

Next Chapter: Malfoy and Harry meet in the broom closet and discuss how they are all lovey dovey and need to have more of an emotional relationship than just a physical relationship…Chya!

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